


From the ashes

by ShamaelPandora



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Asexual Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men Crying, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Redemption, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-02-10 08:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamaelPandora/pseuds/ShamaelPandora
Summary: During the duel on Mustafar, Obi-Wan collapses and destinies are changed.





	1. Chapter 1

Fire and ash everywhere. How fitting a stage for his last meeting with the man who has shared his life for so long. How far they’ve come in such a short amount of time. How it happened exactly, Obi-Wan doesn’t know. He can only guess but the mere thought of having let Anakin down to this extent is too much for him to handle at this moment. He needs to focus, to be able to fight.   
Still, his thoughts threaten to overpower his control over them. It is his fault, it must have been… How could he be so blind, how could he let his brother turn?   
The hologram was still engraved in his eyelids, burning his eyes each time he blinked. As he had stood next to Yoda in the hall of the burning temple, he had struggled to keep his face void of any emotion at the sight of the mutilated bodies. So many faces he had known all his life, now blank and pale. Some strange forewarning had compelled him to check the recordings. Then nausea. His hands had been shaking. How unfitting for a Jedi he had thought just before his legs collapsed under him, leaving him panting on the floor. 

“Destroy the Sith we must”

I can’t do it, don’t ask me to, he’s my brother, he’s all I have left

But still… there he was

The ground stops vibrating. They’ve landed. Obi-Wan follows Padme, hiding.

Seeing Anakin feels like a punch in his gut. Force, he almost wishes his brother had been scarred the same way as Palpatine. He looks too similar to what Obi-Wan remembers, yet his eyes gleam in a way that made his skin crawl and his eyes burn. 

It all happens in a whirl of fire and despair. Their lightsabers are drawn, they hit hard. 

Obi-Wan loses himself in the familiar movements, block, hit, hit again faster. 

His eyes find Anakin’s. 

One step back, block, block again, two steps back. 

His grasp is loose, his breath shortens.

His lightsaber clatters on the durasteel floor. 

His knees follow.


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan opens his eyes. Then immediately shuts them again. There are walls around him, white and bare. Where is he? Most importantly, where is Anakin? He takes a deep breath. To say someting isn’t quite right would be the understatement of the century. His emotions poke at him like a needle: sharp and unrelenting. That is new. He relaxes his muscles, unclenches his jaw and heads towards his familiar meditative state. 

One breath, slow and deep. A second one, troubled and anxious. A third one, short and painful. 

He opens his eyes again. A bright light blinds him. No shackles around his wrists and ankles. They must have used chemical Force suppressants. Less barbaric, he’ll give them that. No releasing his emotions into the Force. Not to worry, he’s an experienced Jedi master, he doesn’t need this crutch to calm down now does he? Inhale, exhale, slowly, deeply, calmly. 

Fire  
Ashes  
Anakin.

 

Alive, close to him. 

The sound of a door opening. Right on cue he thinks grimly. Can’t he get any rest? His mind braces for impact.


	3. Chapter 3

The footsteps halt in front of the door. No Force signature, no movement. It could be anyone for all Obi-Wan knows. Trying to fool himself. It’s him. Of course, it’s him. 

It wouldn’t be anyone else. 

He keeps his eyes resolutely closed. He knows he is not ready for this. His mind is bare, he has no shield. His eyelids are the last barrier he can keep. 

It will not last a second against Anakin. As soon as he’ll start to prod, Obi-Wan’s resolve will crumble to ashes. But he will keep the illusion of dignity until he no longer can. 

Not a sound. The wait is painful. What could Anakin possibly be waiting for? Let this be over with. 

 

He’s fidgeting. He hasn’t done that since he was an apprentice. A Jedi knight doesn’t fidget and Anakin learned early the art of remaining seemingly confident in every situation. 

But he does fidget now. 

 

A heavy breath. Silence. Then “Master…”

It hurts. 

Obi-Wan was prepared for backlash, contempt, insults maybe. Anakin is not exactly known for his subtlety. 

But this… This broken tone, similar to the one he used when something bad happened, a death, the loss of a droid, nightmares…

He used to love Obi-Wan so much. Coming to him whenever something was wrong. Even hugging him sometimes. That has not happened in such a long time. 

 

Obi-Wan never knew how to react. Never was used to such displays of affection. So he remained stiff. Tried a small pat on the back sometimes. 

And over the years Anakin had grown distant. 

He had noticed. Of course, he had. After the beginning of the war… That’s when he noticed the contrast. 

 

They relied on each other. They had to. They were a team. So they acted like one and trusted each other with their lives. But never with their secrets. Not once. Every personal subject was carefully avoided. By that time they barely spoke except to bark intel or bitter jests. 

He’s probably to blame for that. A master and apprentice relationship does not require the sharing of one’s personal thoughts and memories. Obi-Wan had respected that through and through. Anakin didn’t need to know anything. Especially not his many shortfallings. 

After Qui-Gon’s death, he had spent countless nights sitting on some corner of the Temple, far from their quarters, far from Anakin. There, alone, he could finally let out the grief he was carrying every day. And the next day, he’d put his mask on, he’d stand straight, and he’d start again. 

He had been more affected than he dared to admit. He was still a child at that time. Too young. Too inexperienced. Orphan and parent in one destructive stroke of Fate.

So much time hiding, trying to prove to himself that he could do it anyway. Foolish. Arrogant even. 

And look where that got him. 

 

Being unable to access the Force now is getting increasingly painful. 

His jaw hurts. He’s clenching it again. He resists clenching his fist too. 

This wait… It has to stop. 

 

“What do you want”. The words snap, abrupt. His voice is rough. Throat like sandpaper. 

 

Silence. 

Is it a manipulation tactic? Probably. Granted, it’s a good one. His breath is already shallow. Mind fuzzy. Throat swollen. Force.

They couldn’t have picked a better one. Darth Vader, he can deal with. Dark Side? Fine by him. It’s different enough. Cold enough. Detached. At least, it’s not Anakin.

But this? This is cruel. Twisted. Torturous. 

 

What do they want? He doesn’t know what’s happening to the few Jedi left. Force, they might be dead by now. Without the Force, he doesn’t have much anyway. 

 

Torture for the sake of it maybe. Punishment. 

Probable. Anakin can certainly hold a grudge. 

 

“Master… I’m so sorry.”

 

A beat.

What…. 

His eyes remain resolutely shut. Every part of his body is strained. He’ll probably start shaking any moment now. 

So undignified. Here he is, the Negotiator. Famed across the former Republic for his calm way with words. 

No sign of that now. 

He remains silent.


	4. Chapter 4

Footsteps again. Closer now. 

His breath shortens. 

A hand just above his shoulder. Too much. Too close. Right now, it’s the last thing he could bear. 

A tell-tale heat behind his closed eyelids. It’s been a while since he last felt it. Force, he can’t even push it down. 

He’s lost enough. No need to bear further humiliation. 

Jaws painfully unclenching. Aiming for nonchalant. Voice painfully tight. “Do you mind leaving?”

A far shot. He doesn’t have much to lose anyway. 

The hand is withdrawn. Footsteps echo in the hallway. The door shuts. 

Well, that’s surprising.

 

He takes a deep breath. It hitches in his throat. His arm curls around his torso. The crook of his elbow covers his closed eyes. 

His throat and eyes are burning.   
What is the point of this masquerade? Nothing makes sense.   
If it were torture, he wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t have given Obi-Wan this dignity.   
Trying to make him lower his guard? To which purposes? He doesn’t know any more than they do. He knows even less. 

What do they want…

He tries to quench the hope budding in his chest.   
It doesn’t matter. Everyone died. 

His throat hurts. Ears buzzing. 

What about Padmé…

Methodical thinking. 

He’s not in a spaceship anymore. None of that familiar buzz he could feel even without the Force.   
The room is empty, round corners, sanitized. He’s still wearing his Jedi robes.

A hospital room. 

Strange place a Sith Lords gathering. 

 

Footsteps again. Familiar. Too familiar. 

The door opens. 

The gimer stick hits the ground. 

“Explanations you need.”

 

Obi-Wan’s eyes stay shut. He presses his palms on his lids. Too much, this is too much, he’s going to crack. 

Yoda must have felt it. He puts a hand on his shoulder, where Anakin’s had hovered mere minutes ago. 

Soothing. 

 

He feels like a teenager. No access to the Force, needing comfort. Shame creeps on his face. 

“What happened” he croaks. 

 

“Anakin came back. Contacted us with your commlink he did. On Polis Massa we are. Safe Bail Organa and Padmé are. Unfortunately, no other survivors are to be found. Young Anakin on trial will be put. ”

Deep breath. Taking it in. 

 

“I can’t reach the Force,” Obi-Wan whispered. His voice would break with one more word. 

 

“Great pain you have encountered. Part of your brain shut down is. To prevent more pain, blocked it you have. Heal you must before reaching the Force you can.”

 

A chuckle escapes Obi-Wan’s throat. He smothers it, opens his eyes. 

 

Yoda is looking at him. Weary. Grieving. “See him you must. The sooner the best. Getting rid of Sidious we must.”

 

“I can’t. Not now Master. There’s too much.”

 

“Infected your wounds will become if wait you choose to.”

 

“Is it really him?”

“Some darkness left in him there is. Time it will take to disappear. Amends he wants to make.”

 

Another chuckle. 

 

“And how is he planning on doing that?” 

 

He’s breaking down. He needs to be alone or it will get ugly. 

Yoda must read every single one of his thoughts. He has no shield anymore. Kriff. His heart is laid bare and his private thoughts are projected to every single Force-sensitive person around him. 

He’s so tired he can barely grasp anything that is happening. His thoughts are spiralling out of control. 

 

“May I have some time alone? Please?” Voice finally breaking on that last word. 

 

Yoda presses once more his hand on his shoulder and leaves. His footsteps slow and heavy. 

The door shuts.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I will be posting new chapters at least once a week. Constructive criticism is much appreciated!


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